The point is there is no point.

We ended it. Whatever it was. Whatever it couldn’t be. Whatever it had been or could be if it weren’t for the ifs, buts and ands. You don’t want to hurt me and I don’t want to destroy something that isn’t mine. But I think you’re amazing. You make me feel amazing. I just liked knowing I could make you happy. I’d do anything for you.

And don’t worry, I’ll keep smiling at you.

(You said I dont know how beautiful I am. But because of you, I think I’m a little bit closer to seeing it. Thank you)

I was never idle long enough to do much thinking, but I felt somehow that my instincts were right. I shared a vagrant optimism that some of us were making real progress, that we had taken an honest road, and that the best of us would inevitably make it over the top. At the same time, I shared a dark suspicion that the life we were leading was a lost cause, that we were all actors, kidding ourselves along on a senseless odyssey. It was the tension between these two poles - a restless idealism on one hand and a sense of impending doom on the other - that kept me going.
-Hunter S. Thompson (The Rum Diary)